


The Prince and the Chevalier

by WinterdaySmoothie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 16th Century CE, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Courtship, M/M, Nobility, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25853599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterdaySmoothie/pseuds/WinterdaySmoothie
Summary: Francis Bonnefoy is a French nobleman who travels to the Palace of Whitehall in England for an arranged marriage to a Belgian duchess after his mother learned of his preference for gentlemen. In an opportune encounter he meets the bastard son of the king, Arthur and they began an unexpected friendship.
Relationships: England/France (Hetalia)
Kudos: 24





	The Prince and the Chevalier

**Author's Note:**

> Just reposting from my Hetalia amino! Also it is set in the sixteenth century and is loosely based on Philippe, Chevalier de Lorraine and Philippe I, Duke of Orléans.

Francis glanced at the elaborate stage that had been set inside the palace. All the courtiers running around in extravagant costumes preparing for the arrival of the royal couple. Everything was ready for the masque, the musicians were in place, the actors and the singers were eager to start. However, for some reason he could not explain, he was not in the mood to partake in the festive courtly entertainment that was just about to begin. The French man found himself away from his commodity in the court of Versailles. Instead, he was in the Palace of Whitehall, once upon a time the greatest palace in Europe until Versallies was expanded and took Whitehall’s place. 

It was unusual for him to not want to participate in social gatherings of courts, but Francis was not in his best mood. Normally he would have already changed into a costume and await in position for his majesty’s grand entrance. He was not upset about the fact that this was not his court, it was not his first time visiting England after all. He had been there many times, typically to visit his mother who resided at the English court as a perfume seller. She was a noblewoman of course, but she also had a great eye for business. Unlike other times, Francis was not here to supply his mother with scents coming from Versailles or to simply visit her. 

His mother had heard through the gossips that went from court to court that Francis had fallen for the Italian vice, in other words: homosexuality. That was no secret in the French court, of course, Francis was a flamboyant gentleman and very much open about his sexuality, Chevalier de Bonnefoy was confident in his position at the court since he was at the king’s good side and was in charge of setting court etiquette. His mother decided to take action about it since she was afraid that Francis may gain a bad reputation if he continued with his vice. Therefore, he had been summoned to England where he would meet a fair Belgian duchess who he would ask for her hand in marriage. 

The French man who always lived a carefree life with no thought about marriage now found himself in a helpless situation with no apparent escape. He would be meeting her the next day and should be engaged by the end of his week to then return to France with her to be wedded. It wasn’t that he did not like lady Abelsson, from the portraits he had received and the letters he had gotten from her, she did seem like the ideal wife. He liked the company of ladies, so technically he did not have a problem marrying her. His fear, however, was saying goodbye to his freedom and his many lovers in the court. Thus, he was in great agony and in no mood for joining the queen’s masque that evening.

“Oi mate, find yourself another spot, this one is taken.”

Francis glanced at the young man sitting under a tree in the garden. He had gone out of the palace but apparently, he had wandered too far and reached a point where he was not welcomed. The man under the tree had messy blonde locks and wasn’t wearing the costume for the masque, was the man even a courtier? It seemed like, judged by his refined clothing.

“Are you deaf? Get lost!!  
Arthur hissed at the well-dressed stranger that stood in front of him. The Brit was drunk out of his mind and he would rather be left alone. He was a pretty aggressive drunk, which is why he had gone out to the garden in hopes of being alone, but this intruder had to come and bother him.

“And why should I? You don’t own the royal garden.”

Chevalier de Bonnefoy replied, crossing his arms in disapproval of the man as he walked closer. That’s when he noticed the two empty bottles of wine, well that explained a lot about the courtier’s behavior. 

“That’s when you’re wrong, git. I actually do own this garden, and I own the palace as well. In fact, I own this entire bloody kingdom.”

The Brit chuckled, taking impulse from the tree trunk to get up on his feet. If this stranger was here to pick a fight then he was going to get it. The English man had purposely come to hide in the garden but if even there he was being disturbed, then he would show no compassion to this intruder.

“Really? Last time I checked, his majesty Charles II didn’t have two hideous caterpillars for eyebrows.”

This was outrageous, who was this man who dared to insult him in his palace? Arthur would not tolerate the level of disrespect from a simple courtier, from one of his subjects!

“Do you even know who you’re talking to? Do you want to get beheaded?”

Francis was about to burst out of laughter. He had no idea who this pathetic drunk was. He probably should not be wasting his time debating with the drunken aristocrat, but he just couldn’t help to further anger the Brit.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself, master of the house?”

The English man narrowed his eyebrows as the man-made a little bow in mockery. Arthur was holding it back for now, but one more offense from this man and he was going to lose it.

“You fool, you’re talking to the heir to the crown, the one and only prince and future king of England!”

The French man couldn’t control it anymore, he began chuckling as he looked at the Brit up and down. He had no idea that English people could be so humorous because this had to be a joke. 

“What are you laughing at, lad? Do you want to pick a fight?”  
Arthur clenched his fist as the French man kept snickering. Did he not believe him or what? It was people like this man that made him so short-tempered. 

“Excuse me but, his majesty and her majesty don’t have any children. Everyone knows that the queen is unable to produce heirs. So how could you possibly be the prince, heir to the throne?”

Francis finally stopped giggling. He was now genuinely curious about this drunken courtier who fantasies about being the future king.

“Just because my mother is not the queen does not make me any less of a prince!”

The English man pulled the stranger by the collar neck in a swift move. Now he was going to get it, he was so very tired of people questioning his authority in the court and now that he was under the influence of alcohol, he was not going to take any of it.

“Calm down, calm down! I apologize, what is his royal highness’ name so I may address him properly?”

Francis tried to calm the man down, he didn’t come from France to risk getting hit by a drunk man a day before meeting his future wife.

“Arthur, prince Arthur.”

The English man mumbled, it was almost inaudible but Francis heard it. The French man placed his hand on the Brit’s fist and lowered the fist that held him by the collar. Now he knew exactly who the courtier was. He was the king’s bastard son, the oldest one. Believes he has the right to claim the throne but if he even dares to propose it, he could be sentenced for treason. The French man comprehended Arthur’s frustration, he had befriended enough bastard royalties to know all about it.

“And who are you?”

Arthur was more clm right now, perhaps it was the French man’s tone and way of talking that calmed him down, but now he was curious about who this man was. He hadn’t seen the man in court before, and he also had an accent, perhaps he was a foreigner?

“Francis, Chevalier de Bonnefoy.”

Now they were formally introducing each other, at least the French man was. Arthur then instantly knew that the man was French, he very much disliked those cheese-eating bastards.

“What is a bloody Chevalier?”

Francis did not appreciate the Brit asking about his title in such a vulgar manner, then again, Arthur was very drunk so manners were probably not his priority at the moment.

“A horseman, a knight you can say.”

Arthur was surprised, he had no idea that the wine-loving fools had anything close to a knight. He probably should not call them out for loving wine since he drank two bottles all by himself, but that was only because he couldn’t find any scotch or beer.

“Really? Have you participated in a battle? You must be very keen with the sword.”

The English man had to admit that he was slightly impressed, considering that he was very fond of stories dating back to the middle ages about noble knights and their adventures.

“Me? In a battle? God forbid! It’s just a nobility title, foolish Arthur.”

The French man sneered, he did not expect the Brit to be so enthusiastic about it and naive. 

“Then what is it that you do then? If you’re not really a knight.”

Now Arthur was disappointed, for a moment he thought he had encountered a real knight but no, apparently a Chevalier was nothing more but a title. 

“I’m a courtier like you, and the Abbot of four abbeys.”

The English man was even more surprised than before, this fake knight was also the head of four monasteries? At first sight, Francis didn’t look anything like a religious man.

“So you’re a priest?”

Francis was snickering again, this English man was making laugh quite a lot with those idiotic suggestions.

“Trust me, I’m the exact opposite of one.”

Intriguing, Arthur was even more curious about Chevalier Bonnefoy than before. Starting with why the nobleman was in the gardens instead of at the party?

“Is that so? Then I’m surprised you’re not participating in the queen’s masque.”

The French man walked towards the tree and sat down underneath it before starting to talk. The Brit followed him and sat down beside him as well.

“Let’s say that I didn’t have the right company to join her majesty’s festivity, what about you, prince Arthur?”

The English man rolled his eyes when he was being mocked. The alcohol had gotten the best of him before but now he was starting to sober up.

“I don’t think her majesty will be very pleased with my presence in her celebration.”

That’s when Francis had a genius idea, with a devilish grin he flipped his hair back as he leaned closer to Arthur, getting a good look of those emerald eyes. 

“Would his royal highness reconsider attending the masque as my companion?”

The English man blushed slightly when being called by that title which did not belong to him. He did make a fool of himself a while back and now he was suffering the consequences of his actions.

“I don’t think that would be very wise, father Abbot.”

Francis cringed by being called with that honorific, he didn’t want to ever be called that again. Still, he was going to persuade Arthur to go with him back to the palace. At least he wouldn’t be alone there and become the gossip of the court. If the Brit accompanied him then the court would be talking about the two and not just him. 

“Do you know what we have in common, Arthur?”

The English man raised an eyebrow. He had no idea what he could share with the French Chevalier. 

“You see, I’m a Chevalier but I’m not a real knight. You say you are a prince but you really are not. So, we technically own titles that are unreal, don’t you think that is a similarity between us?”

It felt like he was being mocked again, but Francis was not completely wrong, somehow what he said did make some sense.

“I suppose that is right.”

Francis smirked, getting up from the ground before stretching out his hand for the English man to take.

“What do you say about going to the masque as two titleless men? Just as Francis and Arthur.”

Arthur felt inclined to accept that invitation, even though he was drunk and was probably going to get in trouble afterward, but the offer to go freely at the masque with someone who emphasized with him was something he could not reject. The English man extended his slender hand to reach Francis’ to stand up.

“We shall go then.”


End file.
